


Loose Ends

by Adli (ti_ana)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ti_ana/pseuds/Adli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Future Trunks goes back to his original timeline, he is determined to finally have that conversation he's been yearning to have with his father. Complete one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Vegeta has always been my favorite character on DBZ and one of my favorite fictional characters in general. Despite being practically the only reason I watch DBZ, and possibly one of the most dynamic characters on the show, it always bothered me he didn't get more character development. His relationship with Future Trunks fascinates me and I hate that the extent of them making peace we were given on the show was a two finger salute exchanged as Trunks is leaving on his time machine. So, this is my attempt to sort of tie the loose ends between his outburst during the fight with Cell and that moment he says goodbye to his son from the future. Plus, I like Trunks and I feel he deserved to put his father in his place for once!
> 
> This piece has evolved a lot. I started working on it months ago and have tweaked it often until it became this. I know I could keep reading it and rewriting it, but I'm satisfied with this result for now. It's a one-shot for now, but I have other ideas I may add to it down the line if enough of you show interest in it. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! Don't be shy, let me know what you think. Keeping Vegeta in character is a tough feat, let me tell ya.

Peace.

That was a strange concept for Trunks to imagine. He had been raised in a world of chaos and tragedy, the idea of peace only a fantasy, something to strive towards, but at the same time, so seemingly unattainable.

And now it was here.

Well, it was here for this timeline; a timeline which had quickly become a completely different world from everything he knew. But now it was within reach in his own world. With the amount of power he had gained during his time in the past, he knew he would easily be able to defeat the creatures that had turned his childhood into a living nightmares.

"There you go! What do you think?"

His mother's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He blinked at the mirror that Bulma was holding up in front of him. After spending a year inside the Time Chamber, his hair had grown out again and he hadn't had time to trim it back to the more manageable style he had always preferred. Bulma had volunteered to cut it again for him before he left to go back to his own present.

With a small smile at his young mother, he took the offered mirror from her and politely looked at his reflection. It didn't matter very much to him what his hair looked like—all he cared about was making sure it didn't get in his eyes during battle—but it was clearly important to Bulma that he like it. After a quick look, he nodded.

"You did a great job, Mom. Thanks."

Bulma beamed at the complement as she accepted the mirror back from her son and set it down on the table behind her. As she turned back to look at Trunks, she was struck by the far off look on he had on his face. With a hand on her hip, she cocked her head slightly at the man her baby would eventually grow into.

"What's wrong, son?" she asked with concern.

Trunks shook his head and offered his mother another small smile. "Nothing," he said unconvincingly. At his mother's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "I'm just wondering where my father went, that's all. I was kinda hoping to see him before I go tomorrow."

Bulma nodded knowingly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe he'll be back to see you off," she suggested.

Trunks didn't respond. "Yamcha…" he started, then hesitated, unsure whether it was something it should tell his mother.

"Yes?" Bulma prodded gently.

Trunks pursed his lips. "Yamcha told me that my father reacted very strongly when Cell killed me," he said finally. "That he went nuts and just attacked with all he had."

Bulma's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yamcha told you that?" She wasn't sure what surprised her more: that Vegeta had had an open display of emotion or the fact that it was Yamcha who had shared the information with her son.

The young man nodded.

"There's a whole other side to Vegeta that he doesn't like to show," Bulma mused. "I've hardly seen it myself. I know it's there, but… wow."

"I wish I got to see more of it," Trunks said. "I always wondered about my father when I was growing up. My mother never sugarcoated what he was really like, but she also didn't like to talk much about it either."

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. No, she supposed she wouldn't have wanted to talk about it much either under those circumstances. She wasn't very sure how she and Vegeta had ended up conceiving Trunks in the other timeline, but she would be willing to bet his general attitude hadn't been much different. To have him completely ripped away, along with most of her other friends, was something she couldn't bear to imaging having to live through.

Looking at her son now, she could see in his eyes how much he had yearned to meet his father, if only just once. That he had gotten to spend such a great deal of time with him already meant the world to him, even if most of the time Vegeta treated him like an inconvenient bug he had found on the bottom of his shoe.

Bulma placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trunks, I'm sure you know this already, but your father hasn't had the easiest life," she explained, pulling up a seat next to him and sitting down. They had never spoken much of Vegeta before, but now she knew she couldn't let him go back to the future without having a sliver of understanding of his father. "He's tough and strict because that's all he knows how to be. Don't take it personally."

Trunks blinked in surprise. This was probably the longest conversation about Vegeta he had ever had with either version of his mother. "I don't," he replied. "Believe me."

"Good," Bulma replied with a bright smile. "I'm convinced he does care about you in his own way. And I'm really hoping he gets a chance to prove it as the years go by."

Trunks looked away from Bulma, his face betraying some of the concern that had suddenly washed over him.

"What is it?" Bulma asked.

"Do… do you think he'll stay and help raise me? Well…  _this_  me?"

Bulma frowned, as if she hadn't really thought about that. "Where else is he going to go?"

"I don't know," Trunks said, his shoulder moving slightly in a small shrug.

Bulma considered that. She supposed Vegeta could take their spaceship again and leave Earth. It wouldn't be the first time he did that. Would their infant son be enough to keep him on this "miserable planet" he hated so much? Where would he even go and what would he do? Would he return to his old ways?

She shook the thoughts away. One day at a time. She glanced at her son, marveling for the millionth time at how much he resembled Vegeta the older he became, despite having her side of the family's lighter coloring.

"Thank you for coming here and doing all you've done for us. We owe you our lives."

Trunks blushed and looked away from his mother. "It was my pleasure," he murmured with embarrassment. "At least I know somewhere there's a version of me who got to grow up in times of peace." He suppressed a yawn.

"Oh, you must be exhausted!" Bulma exclaimed. "Go get some sleep. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

She was reluctant to let her son go, but she knew the time had come for him to go home. If she knew herself as well as she thought she did, her future version would be beside herself with worry as she waited for him back to his own timeline. As much as she was going to miss him, she was ready for life to go back to normal. Whatever passed for "normal" these days, anyway. Bulma wasn't quite sure she had that one figured out just yet.

Trunks nodded and stood up from his chair, removing the towel his mother had placed over his chest and shoulders to catch the purple strands of hair she had snipped from his head. He pulled her towards him and hugged her. Though surprised at the sudden show of affection, Bulma didn't hesitate to throw her arms around him and hug him back tightly, wondering not for the first time how he had gotten so damn tall. After a few seconds, Trunks gently pried Bulma's arms off him and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Mom."

"Good night, Trunks."

He turned and quickly headed up to the room his grandmother had set up for him. After he had gotten back from Kami's Lookout, he had spent some time chatting with his mother over dinner before she had disappeared into the bathroom and come back with a pair of scissors, intent on getting his hair back to the shorter style he usually sported. He hadn't put up much of a fight, knowing how useless that was when his mother was determined.

The sun had set a while ago and he had stayed up hoping to catch his father if he returned. He knew the older Saiyan hadn't been living at Capsule Corporation for a while now, but he had still been hoping something in him had changed after the whole ordeal with Cell…

Trunks stopped in his tracks at the doorway to his room. His raised his eyes towards the ceiling and a small smile tugged at his lips. A few seconds later, he was out window and levitating on the roof of Capsule Corporation, following the familiar ki that had just invaded his senses.

He wasn't disappointed. Vegeta was sitting on the tallest point of the building dome, one knee bent close to his chest and the other leg extended in front of him. His arms were wrapped around the one leg closest to his body, back rigid and head held high. Trunks could see even at this distance that Vegeta's Saiyan battle uniform was wet and torn. There were scratches and bruises on the skin that was visible through the tattered fabric.

"They wished you back."

His father's voice was gruff, but it no longer contained any of the hostility it had carried before. In its place was the slightest hint of weariness. The statement was uttered as a simple matter of fact, not a question.

Trunks nodded, even though Vegeta was not facing him.

"Is Kakarott…?" Vegeta trailed off.

"Still dead?" Trunks finished. "We offered to wish him back with the Namekian dragon balls, but he refused."

Vegeta didn't respond, but Trunks saw a muscle on his back twitch. He knew how much his father yearned to fight Goku again. He didn't need his mother's stories to know that much—everything the man did was a calculated move to become a stronger fighter. His pride had been badly wounded by Goku's strength and by choosing not to come back to life, Goku had essentially extinguished the only motivation Vegeta had left to fight. Trunks had to wonder what would happen next. Although his human friends and family had longed for peace, how would Vegeta cope with the knowledge that he would only be third best to his rival's young son and no way to remedy that?

Trunks floated towards his father and sat down next to him, keeping a couple of feet of distance between them. He pulled his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them, following Vegeta's gaze towards the sky. He briefly debated internally whether to bring up what Yamcha had told him about the fight with Cell, but quickly decided to keep it to himself. His father's pride was already battered and he didn't think an open display of emotion would help it further along. Instead, they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Trunks decided to speak. "I know you don't want to hear this," he started, still not making eye contact, but able to see his father out of the corner of his eye. "But I'm really glad I finally got to meet you."

Vegeta pulled his gaze away from the sky and turned to look at his grown son. He considered the words for a few seconds before nodding once in solemn acknowledgement and turning his head away again.

The lack of reaction threw Trunks off. By now, he had already become used to the way his father either ignored him or admonished him. However, this— this comfortable silence and calm acceptance— it was not something he understood well when it came to Vegeta. Encouraged, he spoke again, this time more confidently.

"I heard you took a shot at Cell so that Gohan could…"

Vegeta's expressionless face quickly became a scowl and he turned to face Trunks again. "So that a third class warrior's hybrid son could prove just how much he surpassed me in strength?" he growled.

"You helped save us…" Trunks said.

"Spare me," Vegeta responded, the previous animosity returning to his voice. "I was completely useless in battle. I nearly got myself killed by Cell and that idiot's son had to step in to sa—" he caught himself before he could finish saying the word "save" and looked away in disgust. "I was useless."

Trunks didn't say anything. What could he say to this proud Saiyan prince? Any words of comfort he may have offered sounded hollow and forced. This was something his father would just have to get over in his own way.

"So… what happens now?" Trunks finally said after a few more minutes of silence.

Only Vegeta's profile was visible from Trunks' angle, but he could see his father's eyes narrow in irritation. "Nothing," was Vegeta's reply. "Not a damn thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" The rhetorical question had less bite than it should have. The fight was drained out of him. Trunks detected the weariness again and something else… sadness? No, that couldn't be right. Did Vegeta ever feel sadness? Trunks had to wonder. "The battle is over. Kakarott is dead. The Earth is saved. You can go on your merry way home. There's nothing left for me now."

Trunks eyes flashed with barely contained anger. "How can you say that?" His voice sounded calmer than he felt.

Silence.

"You know, there's a baby sleeping in his crib below us who will think the world of you one day and you won't have to do a damn thing to earn it," he stated crisply. "And there's a woman who has shown you compassion when everyone else wanted to turn their back on you. All you've done is spit in both their faces as if they mean nothing to you. Well, I'm done trying."

Still no response.

He stood up and turned his back on his father, walking back towards the window to his room. He was tired of this. Being around Vegeta was emotionally draining. He didn't have time for it and his body was screaming at him for sleep. All he had wanted to do was have a decent conversation with his father before leaving to go back to his own timeline.

"Is that what she told you?" Vegeta's voice floated from behind him. "That she means nothing to me?"

Trunks stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his father. Vegeta was standing now, his arms crossed across his chest in his usual defensive stance. He was looking sideways, as if not wanting to meet the eyes that were almost a mirror reflection of the woman he was most likely trying so desperately to avoid tonight.

"She didn't have to," Trunks said through gritted teeth. "Actions speak louder than words, Father."

Vegeta's face became a scowl. "My relationship with your mother is none of your business," Vegeta retorted. "You have no idea…"

"You're right," Trunks conceded. "It's not. I have no idea what your relationship is like in this timeline. That's between the two of you to work out at this point. But are you seriously going to stand there and deny your son after everything that's happened? Never mind me. My father has been dead for years. This Trunks' father isn't."

Even though Vegeta wasn't looking at him, Trunks could see the pensive expression on his face. He was having an internal struggle and Trunks knew it wouldn't be over any time soon. His father still had a lot of growing up to do, but, not for the first time, he saw that glimmer of hope for him.

"I'm sorry I've been so in your face all this time," Trunks continued, his voice softer. "You're clearly struggling with the idea of being a father and meeting me hasn't helped. I just…" He trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Vegeta turned his head curiously to meet his son's gaze, waiting expectantly.

Finally, Trunks sighed and closed his eyes. "I just wanted to get to know you, that's all. It's not every day a person gets a chance to meet a dead father."

There was a long drawn out silence. Frankly, Trunks was simply glad that Vegeta had allowed their conversation to go on this long.

"It is what it is," Vegeta spoke finally. Trunks' eyes opened to find Vegeta staring at him intently. "Never apologize, boy. The past is the past and it can't be changed, as you know very well. Not directly, anyway. You did what you had to do and I did what I had to do. It's done."

Father and son stood there for a few minutes, neither speaking. Vegeta's words struck a chord in Trunks. That was exactly how Vegeta viewed life. He acted in the moment, according to his circumstances and he didn't dwell on things he couldn't change. Except, apparently, when it came to his one sided rivalry with Goku and his personal relationships.

"Maybe it's time for you to take your own advice."

To Trunks' surprise, Vegeta chuckled mirthlessly. "Don't speak of things you know nothing of, boy."

"Just think about it," Trunks said quietly.

After a few beats, Vegeta spoke again. "Why would  _he_  think the world of  _me_?"

Trunks didn't have to ask who he was referring to. They both knew what was weighing on his mind.

 _Because I always did_ , Trunks wanted to say. He had never met Vegeta before he had traveled back in time, and yet he had always thought of his father as a superhero. Even now, after all of the interactions they had had, his opinion had changed very little.

"Because you're his father."

There didn't need to be any other reason. Trunks imagined Vegeta considered his entire life a failure. Second best only meant first loser, by Vegeta's standards. He didn't accept anything less than the very best. But he didn't realize that for Trunks, it didn't matter whether his father knew how to fight. It didn't matter whether who he was or wasn't stronger than. It didn't matter that he came from an elite royal bloodline in his home planet. It didn't even matter that for the bulk of his life, he had done nothing but travel the universe doing a tyrant's dirty work.

All he knew was that this was his dad.

The silence that settled over them was almost deafening. Vegeta was now looking at his son, a queer look in his eyes that Trunks had never seen before. Was it… affection?

"This wasn't how my life was supposed to go," Vegeta said quietly, almost in defeat.

"But that's how it went," Trunks replied gently. "You can either sit here and brood about it, or you can actually go out and live what you've got. Which, I have to say, is not a bad deal."

Vegeta didn't have an answer to that. His grown son was usually so quiet and shy; this self-assured young man, mature beyond his years, was worlds different from the kid who had so desperately been seeking his attention and approval.

Trunks turned around, not wanting his father to see the hopefulness in his face. "I leave tomorrow at noon to go back to my own time. Will you see me off?"

He waited patiently, knowing in his gut that he would get a response. He wasn't disappointed.

"Yes."

Trunks smiled. "Thank you," he said. Without turning around again, he started back towards his bedroom window. The unexpected sound of Vegeta's voice again made him stop just before he reached his destination.

"Trunks."

Trunks turned his head to look at Vegeta. His father was standing where he'd left him, still looking away towards the sky.

"You fought well."

Trunks blinked once. Twice. Had he heard right? Had his father just complimented him?

Vegeta met his son's eyes. Trunks could see some of that resolve again, that fire he was more accustomed to.

"Thanks, Dad."

Nothing else needed to be said.


End file.
